


Various Methods of Escape

by toluene



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Jobs, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toluene/pseuds/toluene
Summary: Bruce and John get trapped in Riddler's hideout, and a sincere discussion between them turns into something more.Part 2 ofThe Way You Look Tonight.





	Various Methods of Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Episode 3.

The aftermath of the heist had shed a little more light on the Pact’s motives, but where the light had shone the shadows around it only became more unclear. What was the Agency’s role in all this? What reasons did they have to keep Riddler’s body cryogenically frozen? And why was the Pact so fixated on them? Bruce hardly had time to form any thoughts on the matter before Harley decided to put him to use by sending him out to Riddler’s old lair at the abandoned water tower—now truly abandoned—in order to locate any information on where this so-called Agency black site was.

John was tagging along at Harley’s suggestion, and Catwoman at Bruce’s. Her only apparent use to the pact right now was to make a retinal key from Riddler’s eyes, but with Selina, things were rarely as simple as that. She appeared to have been acquainted with the Riddler in the past, and having her along would give Bruce a chance to find out why.

He told himself that inviting Selina to come along was not just a way to avoid being alone with John as a result of recent circumstances involving a dancing lesson and a kiss. They were alone right now, in fact, waiting in the car for Selina to finish her final preparations before they headed off to the old water tower.

"This is going to be so much fun, Bruce!" John remarked, his energy palpable, shoulders tensed with excitement as his hands gripped onto the steering wheel, opting to take the wheel after his initial call for shotgun.

Something about his energy seemed off to Bruce, though. While it wasn’t exactly unusual behavior for John, his excitement seemed out of place, and Bruce got the feeling that John was only using his excitement to mask something else underneath now that they were alone.

Or perhaps it was just Bruce reading too much into things, and John wasn’t bothered at all by what had happened between them.

Either way, it was probably best to get this over with now.

The silence in the car broke as Bruce cleared his throat. "John, we haven't had a chance to talk alone since the dance. I just want to say that—"

John waved a dismissive hand before he could finish. "Oh I've already thought over all that. Don't worry, I get it," John said, flashing Bruce a quick smile, his swift interruption catching Bruce off-guard. "What was it you said? _Caught in the moment_. Sometimes, it just happens between two friends, am I right, Bruce?"

Bruce thought over his next words carefully.

_That's right._  
_It was a mistake._  
_Not exactly..._

Sure, they could keep things like this, both of them refusing to acknowledge what had really happened, and eventually the underlying awkwardness might fade. It would be the easier option, and under different circumstances Bruce might’ve taken it. Even under these ones, it was tempting.

He wasn’t going to let himself take the easy way out today, though.

"Actually, John, that isn't really normal behavior between friends.”

“Oh?” John creased his brow, as if he hadn’t actually considered Bruce’s statement as a legitimate option. “Well, maybe just us, then,” he said finally, with a shrug. "Either way, it doesn't change what we have. Right?" He looked over at Bruce again, the question apparent in his eyes.

Clearly this was going to be more difficult than Bruce thought.

He held back a sigh. At that moment he caught something else in John’s expression, something nervous, almost desperate, and in that instant Bruce was able to place what he had perceived underneath John’s front of normalcy earlier for what it was.

It was simple. John didn’t regret what had happened. He was afraid that Bruce wouldn’t want their friendship anymore because of it. That underneath it all, Bruce didn’t really care about him as a friend, or anything else.

That much was plain on John’s features, and even though Bruce was only able to glimpse it for a second, it was enough.

Bruce suddenly noticed movement from the corner of his vision, and brought his attention to the side door mirror. Selina was approaching the car from behind, having finished with whatever preparations she needed to make. A part of Bruce wondered if she had done it on purpose, as an excuse to leave them alone for a bit, but she had no knowledge of the recent events between him and John, and didn't appear to suspect anything out of the ordinary between their relationship yet.

His eyes followed her movement for only a second before he returned his gaze to John.

"Trust me, John. You don't have to worry about that."

His smile came as easily as the words had, and when John saw it, he relaxed, returning the gesture with a small smile of his own. It was somehow more damning than one of John’s normal grins would have been, and Bruce considered Harley’s comment to him from the other night.

Harley might be right about John in some respects. It was clear John admired him—maybe even loved him, though it was doubtful John was aware of that entirely. Harley, though, wanted to use that knowledge for her own advantage. To have Bruce influence John like she had by encouraging him towards violent behavior and criminal acts in order to further her own goals, whatever they may be.

It made sense on, her part. As much as John worshipped Harley, he was equally receptive to Bruce’s influence, if not more so (Harley didn’t yet know the full extent of it with the near-run in with her and Tiffany at Wayne Enterprises—avoided in large part due to John’s cooperation).

Harley knew John would respond to Bruce’s guidance, and naturally, she wanted that guidance to align with her own twisted version of it.

It was a good idea, in theory.

But it was up to Bruce whether he’d choose to go along with it.

 

* * *

 

Once they were inside, it didn’t take long for them to solve what Bruce hoped was Riddler’s final puzzle. Within seconds after accessing Riddler’s computer system, one rivaling Bruce’s own, the Haephastus protocol had destroyed the chance of getting more information on wherever the black site was.

To top it off, Catwoman had decided to take things into her own hands, and she had disappeared with the decryptor needed to access the information on Harley’s—Riddler’s old—laptop.

At least now Bruce had a better idea why she had decided to help them.

And now they were trapped in Riddler’s hideout. Though John had yet to realize it.

"What's the holdup, Bruce?” John’s voice came from behind him. “Let's get out of this place."

"That might be difficult." Bruce dropped his hand from the door, looking back at John as a sinking feeling came over him. "I think we've been locked in."

But John didn’t seem to have lost hope yet. “The other exit, then,” he said without trepidation, nodding toward the ladder where the exit hatch was.

Bruce made his way with John up the stairs, then climbed the ladder where Catwoman had fled. But even using his full strength, the hatch wouldn’t budge.

“No luck here, either,” Bruce voiced from the top of the ladder.

A bitter sound of frustration escaped from below as the reality of their situation fully sank in. "I knew we couldn't trust her."

When Bruce reached the bottom of the ladder again, he found John pacing in an anxious circle. After a few rounds John became aware of Bruce watching him, and stopped, sending a critical look in Bruce’s direction.

"Whatever you've got going on between each other, I don't know if it's worth it, Bruce."

It seemed that Bruce hadn’t been doing as good of a job hiding his past relationship with Selina as he had thought. He had to give John some credit for picking up on their connection, at least, though they didn’t exactly have the kind of relationship with each other that John seemed to suspect they had.

_It's complicated._  
_I know what I'm doing._  
_She’s not my type._

Bruce answered as sincerely as he could. "You've got the wrong idea, John. There’s nothing going on between us. Not like that." Bruce made sure to keep his eyes focused on John, knowing the words were useless on their own. “Really.”

John’s eyes narrowed at him in close scrutiny as Bruce maintained his gaze. Eventually John relented, tearing away his eyes to look at the room around them. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just focus on finding a way out of this place.”

Knowing direct force wasn’t a likely option, they hunted for alternate ways to get the doors open—careful not to set off any other leftover traps that might be awaiting them—while simultaneously searching for any other hidden exits that might be around.

Unfortunately, after making several sweeps of the area, they failed to find anything either promising or deadly.

The doors must have become locked sometime after the destruction of Riddler’s computer as a consequence of frying the systems. Though Catwoman had been the one to shut the hatch behind her in an attempt to slow them down, it appeared to have locked of its own accord—and unfortunately for the two of them, there didn’t seem to be any feasible way to unlock either of the doors now.

After exhausting themselves in their search, they collapsed tiredly on Riddler’s green prison-esque bed, no closer to getting out than when they had started.

John sighed and slouched forward, sinking his chin on his hands. Riddler’s hooked cane lay on the floor a few feet away from his feet, where John had tossed it in a burst of frustration minutes earlier when it hadn’t offered a simple way out of their situation like he had hoped.

"What are we going to do now?" John lamented. "Harley's gonna be all ‘Off with our heads’ now if she finds out Catwoman got the better of us."

_We’ll figure something out._  
_She doesn't have to know._  
_We could ask her for help._

Bruce wasn’t sure why he thought to ask it, if only to see out of curiosity how John might react to the suggestion of getting help from Harley.

“Why not just ask her for help?”

“Are you kidding, Bruce? That’s the last thing we want to do.”

“We could warn Harley, at least. About the laptop.” It wouldn’t be long before Catwoman had the goggles made and would be able to access everything on Riddler’s laptop. If she got it, there would go Bruce’s chance at getting one step ahead of the Pact and ultimately putting a stop to them.

“No, no—Look, I know Catwoman’s good, but Harley’s got her eyes glued to the thing right now. Even Catwoman would have a hard time getting her paws on it that quickly.”

"Well, at least we know more than we did before coming here." Bruce didn’t have a very good feeling about this Project LOTUS, whatever it was. He wondered what Waller knew about it.

John didn’t seem to hear him, though.

"I don’t know. It's like... no matter what I do, I just—I’ll never be good enough for her." John slouched down even further as all the hope seemed to drain from him.

_She cares in her own way._  
_Just keep at it._  
_You don’t need to be._

Bruce saw the opportunity present itself, and took it.

“Maybe you don’t need to be.”

He knew it wasn’t the advice Harley wanted him to give John, but Bruce didn’t really care at the moment. He hadn’t thought of what he would say afterward, though, but thankfully the rest of the words came naturally as he spoke.

“Right now, I see a person who’s already great. You’re a good person, John, and a lot smarter than Harley gives you credit for. Maybe you don’t need to change.”

John sat quietly next to him when he had finished, his expression unreadable.

"You're always so kind to me, Bruce,” he said after a long moment, but there was a sadness in his eyes even as he smiled at him. As if John wanted to accept Bruce’s words at face value but couldn’t fully bring himself to believe in them himself.

Bruce placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “I mean it.” He said, squeezing his shoulder in a firm grip in the hope that John would know he meant it.

Because in all honesty, he did care. And he wasn’t going to let John convince himself otherwise.

Slowly, John lowered his gaze to Bruce’s hand, and swallowed. The next words weren’t what Bruce expected.

“I didn’t want to bring this up before, but...” John hesitated, glancing away. “I had a dream the other night. After we—you know.” He fidgeted his hands in his lap. “Dr. Leland says that some dreams can help direct us when the path we need to take isn’t clear, or when we face a difficult decision.” He sent a sideways glance toward Bruce. “I think this one might be trying to tell me something. Only I’m not sure what.”

Bruce had a small suspicion where this might be leading, but asked anyway. “What was it about?”

A small smile surfaced in John’s expression. “I’ll spare you the details, but Harley was in it. Something about her was different, and I couldn’t quite place it, but it didn’t matter. She finally _saw_ me. Like I’d always dreamed.” John’s face grew brighter as he spoke, and for a minute he appeared to forget everything else around him. “When we embraced, it was everything you could imagine, and more. I didn’t miss the walls out here any longer. Because we finally had each other. Something _truly_ special. It was… It was wonderful.”

John swallowed, his eyes losing some of their luster. “Only then did I realize it wasn’t Harley I was being pulled to.” His gaze locked briefly with Bruce’s, then slipped away. “I think you know where I’m going with this.”

_Dreams are just that. Dreams._  
_Freud would have loved that one._  
_Go with your instincts._

“I think the best person to analyze your dream is yourself. We all know what we really want. Sometimes it just takes the dream to make us realize it.”

“I was hoping you might say something like that,” John answered slowly, his smile wider than the last had been, but his warmth soon faded back to the disheartened expression he’d worn earlier. “But it doesn’t matter what it might mean. What I want might be different from what _they_ want.”

_They._

Yes, Bruce knew exactly where this was going.

John suddenly stood up, and seemed like he was about to start pacing again. “You know I care about Harley. I mean, of course I do.” The way he said it almost made it seem like John was trying to convince himself as much as Bruce. “But love can only take a person so far. And sometimes I worry that maybe...” He frowned, then shook his head as if battling a troublesome thought. "But on the other side of things… if I’m not wrong, and it’s not just a part of some plan to—well, even if it is, maybe we still could—” A sudden anguished look came over him. “—But of course isn’t, why would I even think to—”

Bruce was starting to get a little lost. “John, you’re not making any sense.”

John shook his head. “Right, right, right—sorry, it’s coming out all wrong. What I mean to say is…” He took a deep breath, and then stepped closer to Bruce. “Maybe it's Harley, maybe—” He paused, a brief shadow of a smile crossing his face. “—maybe even someone else. All I know is right now, I _really_ want to kiss you."

Bruce had not expected John to admit his attraction to Bruce so quickly, or so plainly—at least not after his earlier denial of it, and the sudden shift left him momentarily unable to respond.

"I think that's what this feeling is, at least. Unless—" John swallowed, his doubt returning as he tried to fill the awkward silence. "—unless it's not. I mean, I've been wrong before…”

_ [Beckon John closer.] _  
_[Keep distance.]_

"Come here, John." Bruce patted the space next to him on the bed, where John had been sitting moments earlier.

John looked uneasily over at where Bruce’s hand was, then slowly made his way back to the bed. When he sat down, Bruce shifted over a little so they were close again, but not quite touching.

He hoped he looked as relaxed as his voice sounded when he asked, "How about now?"

John stared blankly at him. "What?"

Bruce tried again, this time making sure to leave no room for confusion.

"Do you still want to kiss me?"

“Oh.” John swallowed, avoiding Bruce’s gaze as he considered the question. “Uh—Yeah, I guess." An awkward grin surfaced. His eyes found Bruce’s again, more hopeful this time, but didn’t do anything else.

_[Move closer.]_   
_[Back away.]_

Bruce took that as a cue to move in closer, and placed a tentative hand on John’s shoulder. His face was closer to John now, but there was still enough space between them for John to easily back away if he wanted to.

"And now?"

John watched Bruce’s hand on him, then slowly trailed his eyes back up to Bruce. Took a deep breath.

"Gotta go with a yes, on that one." John’s voice sounded farther away when he spoke, as if he still didn’t quite believe in his own answer, let alone that this was happening at all.

As if it hadn’t already happened once before only two nights ago.

When John didn’t make any move to stop him, Bruce continued by running his hand lightly down John’s arm. He leaned in until he was mere inches away, then brought his other arm up, cupping John’s face in his hand as he moved a thumb gently across his jaw. He traced his thumb upward, brushing the corner of John’s mouth.

When John leaned into his touch without a second thought, Bruce knew it had worked.

Which of them had charmed the other first, though, was debatable.

"...How about now?" Bruce asked.

John’s voice was barely more than a whisper when he answered, "In a heartbeat."

Bruce leaned in. This time, when it happened, they had no other excuses to fall back on.

The kiss itself was probably clumsy, and probably not the best Bruce had ever experienced. He had had a lot of opportunities over the years, after all, even if it had been as just a part of his public persona.

Right now, though, Bruce was more aware of the closeness of John’s body and what it was already starting to do to him than anything else.

John was starting to get a little too eager, in fact. Bruce realized he should probably slow things down a little before he got too lost in it all himself.

Bruce slowed their kiss, which had gone on a lot longer than their first had, then with great effort, pulled himself away.

"And now?" Bruce asked, wanting to smile at the look in John’s eyes when he blinked them open in confusion. "Still a yes, I take it?"

John’s bewildered look disappeared as his eyes narrowed in comprehension. "Now you're just being cruel.” He said, mouth twisting up into a smile.

Bruce was debating whether he should let things continue as they were, or back away, and leave it at that, when John made the decision for him, pulling Bruce back with an impatient tug and bringing their mouths together again, shifting his body in the process so he was halfway on Bruce’s lap, and Bruce soon found it difficult to focus on anything else.

Who knew John could be so eager.

It still puzzled Bruce how John’s behavior could change almost on a whim. As if he were trying out different outfits to find the one that fit best. In this case, exchanging awkwardness and uncertainty for one of confidence and directness instead.

It was something that everybody did to an extent, but with John, his choices were more apparent.

But that’s all they were—outfits. It was still the same old John underneath. The John that had an uncanny way of seeing past Bruce’s own facades he wore so often in front of others.

As their kisses grew more heated, John moved so he was fully straddling Bruce. Instinctively, Bruce found the back of John’s thigh, still clothed, and slid his hand upward until John gasped, breaking their kiss, letting out a sigh as Bruce gripped his ass that turned into a low moan when Bruce moved in to kiss his exposed neck.

John shifted his weight, hands tangling in Bruce’s hair as he suddenly rocked forward into him, and if Bruce wasn’t hard before, well—they both were now. Bruce broke away for air, realizing how much his breathing had already quickened.

While it would be so easy to continue as they were, Bruce placed a hand up when John moved in to kiss him again, nudging him back for a second time.

"Are you sure about this, John?"

This couldn’t be the way they were going to do things, not when John was still conflicted about his feelings for Harley, whether or not he chose to admit it.

At the same time, Bruce couldn’t deny that there was another part of himself that hoped things would stay on this course.

"Well, it's not the place I'd choose, but…Yeah,” John nodded, returning his hands to Bruce. “I’m sure. I think I’ve been sure for a while now.” He affirmed, looking eager for Bruce to touch him again, unable himself to keep his hands away for very long. “That is, if you are.”

Bruce felt John’s hand drift down his side toward the hem of his shirt, and like the last time John had done so, Bruce thought of his injuries from Bane, and how close John was to discovering several of the scars he had acquired over the years.

“Because if you are, I think I would like the chance to do more—a lot more.” John cleared his throat, as if he were trying to clear the last bit of nervousness from his voice. “Than just kiss, that is.”

John’s hand traced around the bottom of Bruce’s shirt, precariously close to uncovering a secret about Bruce that could lead to an even bigger truth about his identity.

_[Stop John.]_  
_[Let John continue.]_

For a moment Bruce wondered just who was pulling who in which direction.

Was he helping John by doing this? Would his influence keep John from heading down the wrong path? Break Harley’s influence? Would it weaken the bonds holding together the Pact? 

Or was he the one being taken further away from his own principles by remaining as long as he had with the Pact and getting as close as he had to one of its members?

He couldn't deny his strange attraction to John, but there was more at stake here than whatever existed between them, and if he messed this up now, it wouldn't end well.

But, he reminded himself, he had already known that going in.

Nothing ever lasted. Not even memories were free from that. New information came in and the memories of parents you loved—the father you once looked up to—became tarnished by new information. He knew eventually the Pact would find out he wasn't really working with them. John might turn on him, and he had to be prepared for that if John followed in Harley’s footsteps.

Maybe it was better to take the good moments before they were out of reach forever.

And so he did.

He let John continue.

John’s hand played over the hem of his shirt, and Bruce gently nudged it away, only to pull his shirt over his head, exposing his torso in full view, bandages, scars and all.

"Oh..." John’s breath hitched, eyes frozen wide on Bruce.

Before long, his hands returned, at first straying over one or two noticeable marks, then moving on to explore the rest of Bruce’s collection of wounds and scars.

Bruce heard John exhale slowly as he scanned him.

Hands searched over his body, arms, back, sides, couldn't seem to get enough of him.

"I'd love to hear what caused those," he announced over a particular group of scars, ones that Bruce recalled from one of his first fights as Batman.

When Bruce didn’t elaborate on them, John continued his examination, hands eagerly inspecting every inch of his skin as Bruce prepared for the inevitable question that would come.

John's hands strayed over a particularly large wound. "Some of these... are fresh. And deep." Any trace of concern for Bruce was overshadowed by the utter fascination in his voice. "What aren't you telling me, Bruce? Scars like that don't just come out of nowhere."

_It’s nothing._  
_I’m a dangerous man._  
_[Distract him.]_

"Later, John," Bruce said. It was clear it was still very much on John’s mind, though, and it looked like he was about to speak up again, so Bruce moved to shut him up by pulling him into a deep kiss.

It seemed to work. Eventually John broke away, and pressed a hand against Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce realized what he wanted, and let John push him back until he was lying down with John straddling him on the bed. A second later John was back kissing him again, first targeting his mouth, then moving down, focusing on his neck, chest. Scars again.

Then Bruce felt a sudden overwhelming pressure as John rolled his hips over his.

Bruce’s eyes closed, his mouth falling slightly open, but it was John who let out a gasp, breath hissing as he raked his hands haphazardly over Bruce and repeated the motion again.

When Bruce finally had enough of it, he grabbed John, lifting him up and flipping him over so he was underneath Bruce instead.

John let out a surprised laugh as he landed, grinning up at Bruce.

Not wanting to end this distraction, as he now called it, Bruce took things further, fumbling as he undid John’s pants, and then John was pressing up toward him, briefly interrupting him as he brought their mouths together again. With one last look for affirmation, Bruce was taking John in his hand, and then John was gasping, breaking away to let out a moan, then seeking Bruce again, finding his chin, the corner of his lips—missing his mouth by a fraction, but kissing him eagerly anyway, each press of his mouth an eager request for him to continue.

It all happened quickly after that. Bruce gradually sped up his pace, and before long John went tense, letting out one last, drawn-out moan, Bruce keeping his motions steady throughout until John had collapsed underneath him.

John’s arms were still wrapped loosely around Bruce. With great effort, Bruce gently untangled himself from John, then slid his legs over the side of the bed. He fumbled with his pants as he tried to zip them back up, looking for where his shirt had been thrown as he did so, but didn’t get far in his task before he felt a hand placed over his.

Slowly, the hand lifted, only to slide under Bruce’s hands, and Bruce felt a pressure where it was still desperately needed.

Then, against his better judgment, Bruce abruptly gripped John’s wrist.

John stilled his hand, looking to Bruce for a sign to continue.

It didn’t take long for Bruce to cave in. His grip slackened, and with a weak nod, he finally let go.

A knowing glint appeared in John’s eyes, then, and he smiled as he worked at freeing Bruce from his jeans. Bruce’s eyes closed as John finally pulled him free and then John was pushing Bruce back again, leaning over him while his other hand closed tenderly around him and Bruce hardly had the time for thoughts, let alone speech, after that.

John, on the other hand, seemed perfectly capable of it. To Bruce’s disappointment, it wasn’t long before John slowed his movements to almost a halt, watching Bruce with what appeared to be amusement.

Bruce braced himself for whatever words were on John’s mind.

"Maybe sometime we could add a little _violence_ ," John said lowly, then leaned back, a devilish grin appearing on his face as he watched Bruce’s expression. “Let that side of you out you try so hard to keep hidden.”

As John spoke his eyes filled with something more formidable, more dangerous than desire—something Bruce didn’t feel comfortable labeling quite yet.

He continued, lost in whatever fantasy had taken hold of him. “Just imagine… if you unleashed it all out on me. Let out that ruthless brutality you try to contain. The front of indifference finally falling away.” John accentuated each sentence with a deliberate tug, and Bruce strained as he held back a moan.

_That’s not normal, John._  
_You couldn’t handle it._  
_I’d never hurt you._

“I wouldn’t—”

Bruce started to speak, but John chose that moment to speed up his pace. His grin deepened, and he tightened his grip, thumb moving in a way that made Bruce jerk instinctively forward, finally letting out a deep groan as he closed his eyes at the simple tactile pleasure of John’s hand around him.

When he opened them again, he saw John lick his lips, as if considering doing something else to him, and Bruce tensed in anticipation before realizing that John was still caught in the middle of his own fantasy.

“Don't worry, I could take it all,” John vowed, letting his voice fall a notch further, “and I'd still want more. I'd never be able to have enough of it. I'd come back to you, again and again, desperate for your touch. Dazzled by it. Alive only because of it."

"God, John," Bruce gasped, despite himself. He realized he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer like this, and even as John’s words made him feel a prickling sense of worry in the back of his head, they made another, more irresponsible part of himself want to forget all restraint and have John right here, like this, damning all the consequences—consequences which had been damned already by taking things this far.

Something changed in John’s eyes, then, and they shone with a different light.

"Not unlike..."

Bruce didn’t ask John to clarify what he meant, didn’t try to fill the silence, though he could guess the final word that was playing on John's lips. He lost himself in the rising feeling of pleasure. Didn’t try to stop it. The gap of words remained unfinished, and in another few moments Bruce had all but forgotten the sentence.

John eased down beside Bruce afterward, taking the small space remaining between himself and the wall, watching Bruce silently as his breathing returned to normal.

Bruce half-dreaded the feeling of regret to creep in after that, but thankfully it never came. Instead, he felt a hand come to rest over his chest, and turned his head to look at John.

John looked strangely vulnerable now, in sharp contrast to his earlier boldness.

“I hope this won’t be our last time together,” he said softly, looking to Bruce for any sign of agreement.

_Me too._  
_Next time will be better._  
_You know it won’t be._

"If it's still not obvious to you by now, I care about you, John,” he said, turning so he could get a better look at him.

John smiled, and shifted closer. Bruce tried not to notice the sadness that still touched the edges of it.

“I hope you do,” John finally said, a hand running lightly over Bruce’s chest. “I really hope you do.”

For himself, Bruce didn’t have to question it.

No matter what, at the end of all this, Bruce would make sure John knew exactly how he felt. Even if revealing the truth about his identity was never an option, when the time came, Bruce would explain everything he could to John.

He just hoped it would be enough.

 

* * *

 

Bruce must have drifted into a light sleep, because the next thing he knew John was gently shaking him awake.

“Hey, Bruce. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

It took Bruce a second to realize John meant a way out of their current predicament and not something else, feeling the cool night air hit is skin as it streamed in through the open hatch above them.

“How did you…” Bruce began, as he sat up, moving to the edge of the bed as he grabbed his shirt to pull it back on.

John beamed where he stood, looking quite proud of himself. “While you slept, I got to thinking about Riddler having a backup plan for himself in case something went wrong with one of his death traps. I was sure it had to be related to one of these boring little mementos of his.” He said, pointing to the framed newspapers on the wall above the bed and then to the bulletin board a little ways off. “Sure enough, I found a control box behind his little shrine of self-worship. Just needed this to unlock it.” He stepped back from the bed, waving Riddler’s cane and knocking a side of the bulletin board so it swung partway to the ground, then with a press of the hook to the wall behind it revealed a hidden control panel that presumably unlocked the doors. “I knew this would come in handy.”

John had no doubt put everything back in place before waking Bruce so he could keep it as a surprise for him.

_That was dangerous._  
_I could have done that._  
_Good work._

Bruce figured it was better to praise John than rebuke him, whether or not it would have been safer to have Bruce awake to help him in the process.

“Nice work, John,” he said, his tone genuinely appreciative.

John shrugged, but Bruce could tell his compliment had pleased him. “I let myself get overworked earlier about getting stuck in a place like this. Guess I just needed to, uh,” he briefly met Bruce’s gaze, mouth turning up in an awkward smile, “ _unwind_ a little.”

Bruce couldn’t help but return the smile. “Maybe we both did,” he said.

With that, he nodded his head up to the open hatch above them. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

They made their way slowly over to the ladder, both of them drawing out their steps out longer than was necessary. Neither of them seemed in a rush to get back to Harley the rest of the Pact now that they were actually able to. But there was only so long they could delay things.

When they had finally stopped in front of the ladder, John spoke up.

“You know, I could go for something like a latte right now. Extra large, whipped topping, sprinkles on top.” John looked over at him. It was the same hopeful look he’d given him when Bruce had first offered to give him dancing lessons.

“Cafe Triste has good frappes, I hear,” Bruce suggested, though he’d never dream of ordering anything so sweet for himself. The cafe was close, and it would also give them the chance to discuss how they were going to deal with the situation with Selina and the laptop before they got back to the hideout.

Excuses, really, at this point. He should call it for what it was.

John's eyes lit up. “I like that idea!” he said, with a smile to match it.

Bruce found himself looking at John, and became silent. As he watched John, a mysterious smile worked its way onto his own expression.

“It’s a date,” he finally said.

He didn’t kiss John, but from how John looked, he might as well have.

Before John could respond to his statement, however, Bruce turned, and made his way to the top of the ladder, out of the repurposed water tower and into the night.

He only glimpsed John’s reaction for a second, but it was enough to make him think for a moment that maybe it was alright to tell the truth once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so if I’m being entirely honest with myself I might have written this cause I might have a thing about John having a thing about Bruce’s scars and wanted him to comment on them before the big reveal in Episode 4… also because we got the chance to with Selina in the first season, we needed one for John in this one ;) (Whether or not I would have actually gone through with it in game, since it feels a little like using John at this point.) 
> 
> Upcoming from me is a DCU Batman fic which I expect to start posting in September/October. I actually started writing it a few years ago, but now finally have the motivation to finish it thanks to all the Juce around right now :) Basically it will concern Joker and some other villains becoming sane (by Gotham’s standards at least) and how that affects Joker’s relationship with Bruce. Something that’s been done a dozen times before, I know, but I just can’t seem to escape writing my own version of it...
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!


End file.
